Three Days
by RegalSwan
Summary: AU Swan Queen Christmas story: Adaptation of Michael Switzer's "Three Days"; Regina's high-powered job as a literary agent has put a strain on her marriage. When tragedy takes her wife away, an angel gives Regina the gift of reliving the past three days with Emma. Regina has a rare opportunity to prove her love. But can she give Emma the one gift she truly needs?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, this is a Swan Queen Christmas story. It is directly adapted from Michael Switzer's "Three Days" (2001) starring Kristin Davis, Reed Diamond and Tim Meadows. That being said, I hope you will enjoy this version :)**

* * *

The streets and sidewalks flowed with bustling bodies on the chilly day. Shoppers went from store to store in search of that perfect gift for a loved one. The crowd scattered around the square, bags banging as they searched to pick up holiday pie and cookie orders. A bell chimed dimly through the hustle.

"Ho, ho," mumbled a disenfranchised Santa, who stood by a collection bucket for the Salvation Army.

Emma walked by him at first, only noticing that the older man looked less enthused than any other Santas she'd seen before. She shook her head and turned around.

"Hey Santa," she said, taking some pity on his position. "Tough crowd, huh?"

The man in the red suit grumbled a bit. "I do okay."

Emma raised her eyebrow. She took a look inside the bucket. "Wow," she exclaimed sarcastically, "eighty-seven cents!" She then reached toward him.

"Lady, you give _me_ the donation."

Emma snickered. "I want the bell," she said. He reluctantly passed it to her. Emma took it and rang it hard and loud as she danced a bit, giving the chime a bit of rhythm.

"Ho ho ho!" she cried as people flocked to the bucket, dropping full dollar bills in. Emma turned back to Santa, and handed him back his bell. "Now you try!"

* * *

Across the city, two feet sat crossed on a desk as the brunette twirled a pencil in her hand. She slid it into the coiled cord of the phone as she debated with the person on the other line.

"Paperback, Sam? Don't insult me—this guy's a literary giant," Regina spat into the phone. "Yes, we need to give him hard cover. First run." She sighed as she rubbed her temples with her free hand.

"Fine, Sam, you want to stick with the bargain bin? That's great, I have Kim Blanchard on hold," Regina reasoned. "Sure, you can think about it, you have a minute."

Regina smiled as she clicked a button on her phone to switch lines. "Kim, hi, I have Sam Dixon on hold—he wants to publish a hundred-thousand hard cover—you have to top that."

* * *

While Regina made her deals at work, Emma was busy at her studio. She walked around the room in yoga pants as she observed her students.

"Breathe in deep," she said softly. She looked to one mat and bent down to help a woman adjust her position.

She moved upright and meandered through the room once more. "Close your eyes, good," she reminded them. "Just focus on right here, right now."

* * *

Accustomed to a much less relaxed setting, Regina hung up the phone as her assistant entered. She swiveled around to see her. The leggy redhead sauntered her way in, carrying cups of coffee.

"Hey, I called August Booth to see how his work is going," Ariel said as she handed Regina her drink.

Regina took a sip before asking questions. "Is he done with his sequel yet?"

"No," Ariel said, "he's still in the research process. He's heading back to Storybrooke to get some inspiration."

"Great, as long as he meets his deadline," Regina nodded. Regina looked at the young, red headed assistant. Her eyes traced the outline of her tight fitting pencil skirt along with her dress shirt, which must have been missing buttons at the top. "Was there anything else?"

Ariel tried to look away, figuring her boss would be displeased to discuss their most recently received submission. "Well, yeah, I read the manuscript by that kid Pan, from Chicago—"

Regina smirked. "Yes—'Broken Dreams on the Open Road'?" she said, nearly snickering at the title.

Ariel nodded. "Yes…it's pseudo Jack Kerouac!"

"Couldn't agree more," Regina said. "Call a meeting with the boy—I want to sign him."

"Regina?" Ariel cried. "Do you want to lose your job?"

"Have you heard the buzz with this guy?" Regina leaned forward from her leisurely position. "Popping up all over the web…I smell movie deals, excerpts from Rolling Stone—"

"It's literary junk food!"

Regina arched an eyebrow at her assistant. "Are you a critic or an agent—?" she asked sarcastically. "Don't smell it—sell it." Regina moved over to touch her intercom. "Belle," she said into the device, "book me a flight for Chicago."

Ariel smiled as she reached over, buzzing the button again. "Belle? Book me a flight too."

* * *

That evening, Emma headed down to the community garden as planned. She stood with a smile on her face as she watched happy couples and families select their Christmas trees. She looked down at her phone to check the time. It was six-thirty—Regina was an hour late. Emma sighed, as her eyes settled on a skinny little tree.

As she easily carried the small spruce down the few blocks to their apartment, Emma's smile dissipated. She was sure her wife would show up this year. But, as much as she had hoped, she knew better. Across the street, she heard a familiar voice.

_ "Yes, it's simple—just overnight the contracts to me,"_ Regina's voice rang into her phone. As soon as Emma heard her, she looked across the road to glare at her. _"I have to go."_

Regina ran across the street and carefully climbed over a snow bank to get to her wife. "Hey, hey, I tried to call you—," she said apologetically.

Emma kept walking. "Really?"

"I did—no one picked up at the clinic," Regina offered.

Emma sneered angrily. "No one picked up because the clinic's closed," she said, only to be met with a look of confusion from Regina. Emma sighed. "I volunteer at the clinic on _Tuesdays_."

"Where were you?" Regina asked. "The tutoring center?"

Emma shook her head. "No, that's Thursday afternoon."

"Come on!" Regina cried, flinging her briefcase outward. "You flutter like a hummingbird! It's hard to keep track."

Emma was annoyed. "You know—Regina," she began to lecture, "I know you're not really that into Christmas, but I thought one year, we could actually pick out a tree together."

Regina shifted into her half-hearted apology once more. "There was an impromptu reception—I had to—"

"Yeah, yeah," Emma sighed. She knew her wife's excuses.

"Emma!" Regina pleaded. "I'm sorry—it's not like I didn't want to go."

"Really?!" Emma's disappointment had all melted away. She was only left with the bitter taste of her wife's predictable absence. "So what? You forgot—is that it?"

"I didn't forget—I'm swamped."

Emma sighed. "You're always swamped...," she exhaled deeply. "You know what? It's okay…we're good…we have our tree."

Regina glanced at the puny twig of a tree that her wife was carrying. "Oh…this is _our_ tree," she winced at it. "A little sparse, no?"

Emma just gave her a blazing glare when they stepping inside the building. Their mild fighting was only interrupted by a bark.

"Hi Pongo," Emma said to the Dalmatian at her feet. "What are you doing out here?"

_"He escaped again,"_ Archie's voice echoed down from the third floor.

Emma laughed as she patted her leg for the dog to follow. "Don't worry, Archie," she called back. "I'll bring him up!"

Regina simply rolled her eyes at the scenario.

* * *

Once inside their apartment, Regina rolled up her sleeves and began setting up the Christmas tree. Emma had begun unwrapping the ornaments. After tossing aside some tissue paper, she looked over to her wife. She chuckled as Regina struggled to wiggle the tree into the stand.

"Admit it," she snickered, "that tree is growing on you."

Regina mumbled to herself. "More like growing into me," she spat out as she pulled needles from her hand.

Emma eyed a beautiful glass blown ornament that Regina had given her when they first started dating. She smiled. "Are you going to help decorate this year?"

"Uhh…," Regina let out as she crawled out from under the tree, "you know—"

Emma cut her off, eager about the holiday festivities. "Oh, and Archie and I planned on going caroling with a bunch of the neighbors," she cheered. "You can come!"

Regina stood up to put a hand on her wife's shoulder. "Em, sweetie—"

But Emma continued in her bliss. "I know you don't like singing, but it'll be fun. I'll make you some of my famous hot chocolate with cinnamon."

"Baby—"

Emma paused to stare into her wife's eyes. There it was—the famous Regina Mills guilty look. Emma groaned. "How long will you be gone this time?" But before Regina could answer, Emma began to rant. "Regina, do you realize we've been together for Christmas for the last ten years?!"

"Yes," Regina sighed, cupping her wife's face in her hands. "And I'll be back in time for Christmas Eve."

Emma was still displeased. "You can't delay this until after the holidays?"

"Honey, this author is a hot sell," Regina said softly, as she rubbed her wife's arm. "If we don't move, another agency will. You'll be so busy with your little things, you won't even miss me."

Emma groaned at her remark.

"Just a night," Regina said as she kissed Emma's forehead. "I'll be back soon."

Emma left her embrace, nodding. She went over to the box of ornaments and pulled one out. She gave Regina a candy cane to put on tree, but she handed it back.

"I should really pack."

* * *

The next day in Chicago was a success. After hours of wooing Pan and convincing the naïve boy to sign a contract, Regina and Ariel found themselves clanking wine glasses at dinner.

"Okay," Ariel said after taking a sip of wine. "What famous authors died scrounging for scraps?"

Regina laughed. "I'm sure plenty—I had to tell the boy something…," she said as she looked across the table at the red head, specifically gazing at an area of her scarlet dress. "He wasn't biting…we had to hook him."

Ariel laughed, unsure which she found more humorous—Regina's sly business tricks or Regina's not-so-discreet lingering stares at her breasts. "Yeah, who knew you needed his mother's approval to sign him."

"Hey, she seemed to love you," Regina offered, sipping her wine. "I didn't know you grew up on a farm…"

Ariel smiled. "I didn't."

Regina looked utterly confused as she took a bite of her meal.

Ariel continued. "She said she had, so…," she smirked and batted her eyes down. "I went with it. It worked."

Regina smiled. "I guess it did," she said, raising her glass. "Cheers to Pan!"

Ariel tapped her glass with the woman, who was still wearing a full pants suit. "Glad I came now aren't you?"

"You could certainly say that—you sealed the deal."

Ariel fluttered her eyes up at the woman across from her. "Is that the only reason?"

Regina blushed unashamed. "Maybe not."

Ariel smiled widely as she watched the brunette show softness. "Well, that's an improvement—," she said, only to receive a raised eyebrow from Regina. "—from our trip to Providence," she reminded her, "to see August Booth..?"

Regina laughed, recalling the trip. "Do you remember—?"

"—When he caught me slipping out of your room in my lingerie, me claiming I was borrowing toothpaste?" Ariel said, finishing Regina's thought. "Yes."

"I can't believe he didn't believe that," Regina said, taking a large drink from her glass.

Ariel smirked. She glanced down as she danced her fingers playfully on the table. "Quite frankly, I'm surprised that _you did_."

Regina nearly choked on her wine. "What do you mean?"

The redhead shyly blushed as she finally worked up the courage to look Regina in the eye. "It was an excuse," she said slowly. "I wanted to see you."

Regina watched as Ariel batted her eyes away once more. She was a lovely woman—that was hard to deny. She had the kind of beauty that moved—the kind that was unexpected. It simply caught you at a moment's notice, and crept into your line of vision as she shifted her pose, or gave a shy glance away. Regina had been one to look away in these moments, not wishing to be entranced.

"Tell me," Ariel breathed out in a low, husky voice. Her fingers had now found their way to Regina's dark slacks under the table. As they climbed closer to her center, Regina took in a deep breath. "Do I need an excuse tonight?

* * *

Back in Boston, Emma found herself settling in on the couch. She sank into the cushion, wearing pajama pants and one of Regina's collared sweaters. She breathed in the scent of her hot chocolate as it mixed with the apple smell of her wife's perfume. As Emma sipped the warm beverage, she looked over at the photo of her and her wife that sat on the end table.

The photo had been taken years ago, back when they were just engaged. Regina had flown her out to Italy shorty after proposing. Emma smoothed her thumb over the image, smiling as she looked at her wife cradling her, arms wrapped around her waist. Regina had given Emma her jacket, much against her protesting. Emma sighed as she looked at her wife—the one from years ago who would do anything for her. It wasn't that Regina's devotion had faded. Emma knew she'd still take care of her. But now, it felt more like familial obligation rather than passionate dedication to her lover.

Emma pulled her phone from her pocket. As she read from the note that Regina had left, she skipped over the flight information and put her finger to the number for her hotel.

"Hi," she said when the concierge answered, "can you connect me with Regina Mills-Swan's room, please?"

* * *

After dinner and wine, Regina and Ariel had found their way back to Regina's room. Ariel stood in front of the mirror, fixing her hair. She pulled on her dress to center it and then refocused nervously on her hair.

Regina stayed in the bathroom for a long time. She combed her hair and ran her hands through it, giving it the right amount of volume. She fumbled for her lipstick in her makeup bag. Parting her lips, she glossed on the red shade. She pursed her lips a few times to blot and gently wiped the corners of her mouth. When she put her lipstick back, Regina felt a piece of paper.

She pulled out a coiled roll of paper and began to unravel it. There in her hands was a hand drawn picture of her and Emma kissing. Next to it, written in Emma's script, it said, 'I love you'.

_"What's taking you so long?"_ Ariel called from the bedroom.

Regina paused, not immediately registering Ariel's voice. "Just a minute."

* * *

In the bedroom, Ariel had delicately propped herself up on the bed. She waited eagerly for Regina to join her. She'd been playing at this for years. Tonight was the night and no one would stop her.

Just as she had settled herself, the phone rang. "Regina!" she called out. But when there was no response from the bathroom, she decided to answer.

"Hello?" she answered, but no one responded. "Hello?" Figuring it had been the wrong number, Ariel hung up the phone. She turned her attention to the brunette who was finally emerging from the bathroom.

Regina looked defeated and somber. "Hey."

"Ut oh," Ariel teased as she sat up slowly, moving her body closer to Regina's. "Are you having second thoughts?"

Regina was nervous. She kept her distance from the bed. "I was thinking," she let out, "these things get complicated quickly."

"Ah huh…," Ariel said slowly. "So let's keep it simple." She crawled her way on the bed, edging closer and closer to where Regina stood, completely guarded.

"I'm married," she said firmly.

The sudden admission of guilt angered the redhead. "And this is news?" she laughed mockingly. "Who knew Regina Mills had a conscience?"

"I'm sorry—," Regina said, "I shouldn't have led you on."

But by this time, Ariel had already got up, grabbed her purse, and put on her shoes. "Regina, I'm a big girl," she said as she headed for the door. "I'm already over this."

As she left, Regina fell to her knees. She broke down in silent tears, appalled by her own behavior. Had it really taken a love letter from her wife to stop her from an affair? Emma was her world—she'd do anything for her. When had that connection between them faded?—she wondered. More importantly, when had she let it fade? Regina soon decided that the answers to these questions didn't matter. What mattered was getting back to her wife.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, thanks for the awesome reviews! I hope those of you who are afraid of reading a sad fic will stick with it; I promise, it's worth it :) Anyway, here's chapter 2 **

* * *

Regina was able to catch a flight the next evening. She thought of nothing else but seeing Emma. She needed to show her how much she meant to her. Even if her near indiscretion was only known to her, she wanted to shower Emma with the affection she deserved.

She arrived back at apartment with her suitcase in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. "Emma?" she called as she walked into the living room.

Regina saw Emma, slumped up against the side of the couch. Her face was devoid of emotion. She hadn't even looked up at Regina. "Hey, you're sitting in the dark, what happened?" Regina asked. "Did you fall asleep?"

There was nothing but silence coming from Emma. When she looked closer, Regina could see her puffy eyes. She had been crying.

"What's wrong?"

Emma shifted her gaze toward the flowers. "You could do better than that," she said. She saw Regina's confusion grow on her face. "I heard her. I called your hotel room last night."

"You heard who?"

Emma narrowed her gaze and wrinkled her brow. "Don't patronize me," she sneered. "Ariel…I know her voice."

Regina grew nervous. "It was just—we were…," she muttered, tripping on her words. "…prepping for the meeting…strategizing."

Emma's eyes widened. "Is that what they call it now?"

"Nothing happened…"

"Then why didn't you tell me she was going?" Emma cried.

"She just came to help me…," Regina answered, still stumbling. "…to sign the client."

Emma's anger flared. "Since when do you need help signing a client?!"

"Emma, we work together," Regina pleaded. "She doesn't think of me that way—she looks at me like a mentor."

Emma was beginning to cry again. She hated the fact that she was still wearing Regina's sweater. "You know, I planned on asking you to leave, but you know," she said, as she got up off couch, "I can't stand being in here."

"Emma," Regina begged, reaching toward her wife, only to be shoved away. "Please—nothing happened!"

"JUST STOP!" Emma cried as she pushed passed Regina to grab her coat.

Regina opened her arms toward her wife, still holding the flowers and luggage. "Em, please don't go."

"Stop talking! I need to think."

Regina looked at the clock. "It's like two degrees outside and it's almost midnight!"

Emma slipped her hands into her coat and opened the door. Before leaving, she looked up at Regina, who was still in her overcoat with a dazed look upon her face. "Merry Christmas."

Emma slammed the door behind her. Regina heard her race down the stairs of their building. Frustrated with it all, she dropped her bag to the floor and threw the flowers across the room.

* * *

Emma huffed as she breathed in the cold air. Her boots stomped along the icy sidewalks as she moved further away from the apartment. She knew her wife would follow, but she was in no mood to see her. Regina walked a distance behind, nervously picking up her pace. Emma had several minutes of a lead on her, so finding her would require some guessing.

As she rubbed her arms together to keep warm, Emma turned down a corner of an alley. Down the block, she saw something black and white. When she squinted for a better look, she was surprised to see Pongo sitting on a stoop.

"Pongo?" she cried as she approached the dog, "what are you doing here? You're—"

But as soon as she bent down to pick him up, Pongo dashed out in the middle of the street. Emma groaned and ran over to him.

"What are you going out here you crazy dog?" Emma asked him as she scooped him up.

Just then, Regina's heals clack against the pavement across the street. She looked over to see her wife holding the Dalmatian. Emma's attention was so focused on the dog that she failed to see the oncoming traffic.

"Emma?" Regina called out.

Emma turned to see her wife. In that moment, she ignored the car headed straight toward her.

Regina screamed. "EMMA! LOOK OUT!"

As Pongo flew from her arms, the tires screeched. The crash itself sounded more like a bump—a loud thud that made Regina's inner body cringe. Before she could register what had happened, she saw Emma's collapsed body in the middle of the road and rushed to her side.

* * *

Regina sat alone in a room full of strangers, all waiting for some kind of response. She sank her head into her hands, resting elbows on her knees. Her business suit, now a wrinkled mess, held the stress of tears and the remnants from her constant fidgeting, unable to remain at ease.

She was soon approached by a doctor. She lifted her head at the sound of her name.

"Mrs. Mills-Swan?" a man in scrubs called.

Regina stood up, instantly wanting to see her wife. The man extended his hand cordially. "I'm doctor Whale."

"How is she?" Regina demanded, disregarding all forms of pleasantry.

Dr. Whale sighed. He motioned for her to follow him. "Let's talk in here."

As soon as he led her to the quiet, closed off room, Regina sensed that anything he had to say to her wasn't good. Doctors took family members in private not out of respect for them, she felt, but rather to keep their impending outbursts from disturbing other families.

"Mrs. Mills-Swan," he began with a rehearsed sullen face, "your wife suffered massive internal trauma. There was extensive bleeding and—"

The words begin to blur as Regina allowed her head to fall into her hand. Once she had realized that he was explaining the intricate details of how her wife's body had failed her, she didn't want to hear anymore. She knew there was nothing he could offer—no scientific explanation, no half-hearted condolences—that could bring her wife back.

Whale brought her into a small room to see Emma. He put a hand to her shoulder before exiting the room, allowing her time to say goodbye. She scanned her eyes over her wife's body. It was covered by a thin white sheet, only exposing her shoulders and head. Regina gently touched Emma's bruised face, wanting to wipe away the now dried blood.

She sat down and began to cry. "What were you thinking?" she sniffed, "—going after that stupid dog."

Heart monitor remained flat lined as Regina cried more.

"You can't leave me like this," she sobbed, stroking Emma's hair, "not thinking that I—I have to tell you. You have to know the truth."

Regina wished she had the opportunity to make things right. Emma needed to know how much she loved her. She needed to know that she cherished her, and if given the chance, would gladly make up for the years of distance that had grown between them. But as Emma began to grow cold, Regina knew it was too late for promises.

* * *

The buzz of the city had quieted in the late night hours as Regina walked home. She reached her apartment, still wishing Emma was inside. She needed to kiss her again. She fumbled in her overcoat pocket, finally pulling out her key. But when she went to place it in the lock, she was surprised to see it didn't work. She took it out and retried, but had no luck.

Regina turned to the box of doorbells. She began buzzing, hoping someone would be awake and perhaps let her in. But as her frustration grew with the realization that Emma would not be inside to warm her from the cold, she began to slam her fists against every button, crying as she did. But no one answered. Unsure of what to do next, she looked around.

A neon glow came into her field of vision. As she narrowed her eyes on the light, she realized how unusual it was. She hadn't remembered seeing any signs near their building. But nonetheless, she read the word 'locksmith' along a sign above reading 'open'.

Regina slowly moved across the street and entered the shop. As the door opened, a bell rang.

"Hello?" she called.

"Hey, you want to shut that door, dearie, it's cold," a voice echoed from the back room.

Regina stepped in closer, closing the door behind her. "Hi, I know it's late but I got locked out," she said. "—just across the street—can you help me?"

A man in a black suit emerged. He walked forward with a cane and smiled at Regina. "That's what I'm here for."

There was some silence after. Regina expected him to say something, or grab a skeleton key needed for the job. But the dapper man simply stood in front of her, not saying a word.

"Can we go now?" Regina asked, breaking the jarring stillness. "I'd like to get home."

The man grinned wider. "What's your hurry, Regina?" he said, taping his cane. "She's not there anymore."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "Do I know you?"

"No," he nearly chuckled, "but I know you."

Regina's confusion grew as she stared at him. He was a strange little man. His slightly wrinkled skin held lines of the grin he was so found of making.

"I know everyone," he finally said, almost baiting her.

Regina began to believe his smile was a sign of a deranged man. "I must have used the wrong key—," she said as she backed up, "sorry to bother you."

She turned quickly on her heels. Expecting to see the door in front of her, she gasped when she saw the man, now in front of her once again.

"How?"

"Name's Mr. Gold," the man said.

"How did you do that?" she asked.

Mr. Gold chuckled. "I'm not really a locksmith…"

"What are you?" Regina demanded, reaching in her pocket for her phone, preparing should she need to alert the police.

He smiled. "I'm the answer…to your prayer..?" Regina's sense that she should leave the shop grew. But he spoke again. "You wanted another chance, correct? Another chance with Em-ma?"

Fury built in her when the man had pronounced her wife's name by each syllable, in a mocking tone. She stepped forward and got in his face. "Okay, I don't know who you are—"

"Mr. Gold—"

"Or what you are, but—"

"I'm an angel."

He said it as plain as day, and as if the very idea of such a being was as natural as any other earthly creature. Regina dropped her bottom lip as she heard his statement. "What?"

"Oh for the love of God, dearie," Mr. Gold cried out, tapping his cane on the ground for emphasis. "You want to see wings, is that it? Because I can assure you, it's not going to happen."

There was a moment's pause as Regina contemplating indulging his delusion. "Okay," she said, putting her hands up, "you're an angel." She turned to reach for the door. But as soon as she saw the knob, she found herself inexplicably being turned back around.

"How did you do that?" she shrieked.

Mr. Gold smiled yet again. "I'm afraid that's too complicated to explain right now."

"This is crazy—," she said, ready to dismiss him again.

"So…," Mr. Gold said as he shifted his weight using the cane as leverage, "what were you thinking fooling around with that Ariel in Chicago?"

Regina raced forward again, threatened by the accusation from the stranger. "I never did anything with—!" But then it dawned on her. "Wait—how did you know that?"

"Do I need to spell it out for you, dearie?" he said, coming closer to her. He picked up his cane and gestured to himself with the stick. "Angel."

Regina rubbed her temples with her thumb and ring finger. "Okay, look, it's Gold, right?" she asked. "This is the worst night of my life. I don't have time to play games—"

"Games?"

Regina sighed heavily. "Why don't you just tell me what you want?"

Mr. Gold crossed his arms. "Fine—you wish to take that attitude, then you can forget it," he said, throwing a hand back nonchalantly. "I'll cancel this assignment. You don't want more time with your precious Emma?—be my guest."

"Whoa, whoa," she said, raising her own hand, "what do you mean _more time_ with Emma?"

"Listening now, aren't we, dearie?" Mr. Gold asked, basking in his triumph to win Regina's attention. "Such a tragedy—special young woman like Emma to die with a broken heart. She thought you betrayed her."

"I didn't!" Regina cried. "I love her—I—would never actually—"

"Yes, I know," Mr. Gold interrupted, nodding at the claim. "And that's all been taken into account. Which is why you've won that jackpot, my friend."

Regina listened carefully as he continued. "I'm here to bestow a gift. A very rare gift, Regina," he began.

She shook her head. "I don't follow."

The man took in a deep breath. "When you wake tomorrow, you'll have the past three days to live all over again." At this, Regina's eyes opened wide. Mr. Gold went on. "Emma will be alive and won't have any memories of those days, but you will remember it all."

He looked at the confused brunette before him. "Are you getting this?" he asked. "Because starting tomorrow, you may live the last three days anyway you choose." He raised a finger with an important assertion. "But you only get one shot—you need to prove to Emma that you truly love her."

Regina nodded, though she wasn't entirely sure what to make of the absurd promise. Nonetheless, she took in his words with great attention.

"Unfortunately, when Christmas Eve rolls around, she still will meet her fate," Mr. Gold added. "The same accident will happen at the same time."

"No!" Regina cried. "Why?"

The man tapped his cane. "It's her destiny," he said. "11:58 exactly."

Regina shook her head and crossed her arms. "I won't let it happen—I won't let her leave."

"You have to—it's out of your control," Mr. Gold insisted. "If you try to change her destiny, those three days will be gone—as if they'd never happened." His eyes grew soft as he pleaded for the brunette to listen. "Don't focus on her dying, Regina. Focus on her living."

With his last words of wisdom spoken, he turned around toward the back of his shop. But he quickly stopped and dug in his pocket. "Almost forgot," he said, pulling out strange heart shaped key. He tossed the metal object to Regina.

Regina grabbed the key and stared at it in her palm. When she looked up, no more than a moment later, she was outside of her apartment once more, key in hand. With blind faith, she brought the key to the lock and turned the door. A clicking sound followed and she was surprised—it had worked. She climbed up several flights of stairs, ready to forget the evening. Once in her apartment, she threw the key on the table and slumped on the bed fully clothed. As she began thinking her interaction with Mr. Gold was a delusion brought on by grief, Regina only prayed that the rest of the night had been in her mind as well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Thanks for the reviews and compliments! I can't take credit for most of the writing...a lot of the dialogue is the same as it is in the film. I just added descriptions, some flare, and of course, the Swan Queen touch :)**

**Enjoy chapter 3**

* * *

Regina woke up the next day feeling groggy. She was afraid to move. She felt the emptiness from the other side of the bed and felt a chill run straight to her center, settling her back to reality. The brunette knew she would look over to the slightly sunken area next to her, not finding the pillow that should be covered in blonde curls, but instead, simply a lumpy cushion, fading in the strong scent of her perfume.

She slowly walked to living room. Perhaps some fresh light from the window would ease the stress of another day. But when Regina looked to the corner of the room, she noticed something was off—missing rather. It took a moment or two for her to register what it was, but finally, it clicked.

The tree was gone.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of a key in the door. Curious, her eyes instantly shifted to the door knob, only to see it wiggle.

Emma walked in, bubbly as usual. "Hey, it's freezing out!" she cried as she went over to Regina, putting her hands to her face for her wife to feel the chill. Regina pulled her in for a passionate kiss, taking her by surprise.

Emma was confused. "What's got into you?"

"You have no idea," Regina said, smiling. "Where were you?"

"I bought bagels." Regina was unable to take her eyes off of her living, breathing, moving wife. She suddenly noticed the newspaper in her hand.

She motioned to it. "Can I see that paper?"

Emma nodded, handing it over. As she walked over to the kitchen counter, Emma put down a bag of bagels and began making fresh coffee for the two of them. Regina unfolded the paper. Shocked, she read that the date was December 22nd—not the 25th as it should have been.

Emma pulled two mugs down from the cabinet. "Remember," she said, "tonight we're picking out our Christmas tree."

Regina looked at her wife with confusion. "We haven't—we haven't picked out our tree—?" she asked. What began as a question quickly moved to a statement, as Regina quickly made the connection in her mind. "That hasn't happened."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Are you okay?"

Regina smiled in a way that she hadn't in years. "It was just a dream."

"What?"

"All of it. Everything," Regina said ecstatically as she began caressing her wife from behind. "You're here. You're fine."

Emma swiftly turned around to face her. Regina quickly added under her breath another statement of relief. "And that weird little imp," she said in-between kisses, "I must have dreamt him."

"And was Toto there, too?" Emma asked, a bit alarmed by Regina's behavior.

"No," Regina cried in happiness, "you don't understand." She kissed Emma's forehead. "It's wonderful. It's all wonderful!"

At this, Emma's concern grew, but she decided to dismiss it. "Okay," she said before moving over and pulling something from pocket. "You know, I wanted to ask you something—I found this weird key sitting on the table…is it yours?"

Regina found herself staring at the heart shaped key that Emma held in her hand. She gulped, realizing that none of it was a dream. "Uh huh—"

"What's it to?"

"I don't know—," Regina said, shrugging. "I just found it on the street."

Emma eyed the odd key before placing it back on the counter. "—certainly is unusual."

* * *

Emma spent their breakfast trying to figure out why Regina had been staring at her the entire time. She did appreciate the attention from her wife. But it still felt off—there was something odd about her behavior that made her nervous.

"What's the matter with you?" she finally asked after moving to the living room, only to have Regina follow.

"What do you mean? Where are you going?"

"Well, I thought I'd read the paper on this side of the room," Emma sighed, "without you staring at me."

Regina switched the subject quickly, not allowing her wife to read. "What are you doing today? What's your schedule?"

Emma's suspicion grew by the minute, but she answered her wife nonetheless. "Well, I thought I'd teach yoga in the morning and later on I have art class."

"Blow it off," Regina said instantly. "Blow it all off."

"Why?"

Regina took Emma's hands in hers and kissed them tenderly. "Because I want to spend every minute with you," she said as she joined her on the couch.

Emma almost laughed at the hallmark card comment. "Who are you and what have you done with my wife?"

Regina's expression was sincere though. "Look, I know I've been wrapped up lately," she said, "and I want to make it up to you."

"Honey, that's sweet," Emma answered as she brushed the brunette's hair back off of her face, "but what about work?"

"I've got vacation days saved up from the last three years!"

Emma laughed, knowing it was true. "You can't just not go in—"

Regina smiled. "Sure I can," she said as she grabbed Emma's thighs and began stroking them. A mischievous grin grew on her face as she cooed in her wife's ear. "We can play hooky like we used to—"

Emma giggled, slapping her wife playfully on her shoulder. "I guess I could call someone…see if they can cover my class," she said, as she got up and walked into the kitchen. She reached for the paper on the fridge with the other instructors' numbers. "But what do you want to do?"

"Anything you like," Regina answered. "That's the rule—it's your choice."

Emma grinned and began dialing her phone. "I like that rule."

Regina was eager upon seeing that Emma was making preparations. "So where do you want to go, dear?" she said as she wrapped her arms around Emma's waist. "Think big—really think big—anywhere you like. You want to hop a plane—fly to Paris?"

Emma whipped around in a frenzy. "What?!"

"No, I mean it. I want this Christmas to be special."

Emma shook her head. "We don't have to leave Boston for it to be special."

"Come on, there must be somewhere you want to go," Regina pleaded. "Anywhere…you name it, we're there."

Emma paused for a moment and thought. Just then, her eyes sparkled.

* * *

Regina rolled her eyes as they passed the 'entering Storybrooke' sign. She held her gloved hands firmly on the wheel of the black Mercedes. The expression on her face was much different than the bright-eyed, inquisitive one that glowed from Emma's.

"This is not exactly what I had in mind, dear," Regina pointed out as the rode through the snow covered evergreens.

"You said anywhere I wanted to go," Emma reminded her wife, not moving her gaze from the window.

"I said 'think big'."

"You said it was my choice," Emma quipped back. "I chose this."

Regina sighed heavily. "I was thinking Paris," she said. "Not back home."

Before long, they arrived in the heart of their hometown. Emma let out a sound of pure glee as they passed the clock tower. Regina laughed, unable to deny her own happiness upon seeing her wife's delight. She parked the car and Emma quickly hopped out.

"It's hardly changed!" she cried as she looked at Granny's diner and inn. Regina looked down at the tented sign and then over toward the door of the restaurant.

"You're right, dear," she said, pointing to Leroy, who was passed out on the steps. "Same guy has been sleeping here since graduation."

Emma brushed off her wife's snarky remark and took a deep breath. "Mmm…smell that?"

"Diesel fuel?" Regina asked, with a disgusted look on her face.

"No!" Emma cried as she slapped her arm. "It's logs burning on a fire...pine trees…granny's cinnamon hot chocolate!" She grabbed Regina's arm and pulled her forward. "Come on!"

Emma tried to sneak passed Leroy, but there wasn't enough space.

"Careful," Regina said playfully, "he's hibernating!"

Emma gently poked Leroy and quickly backed up as he began swatting at the air. He finally opened his eyes with a grumpy look on his face.

"I'm sleeping here, sister!" he shouted. "Can't you see that?"

Regina crossed her arms and looked down at the small, bearded man. "Well you're blocking the entrance for paying customers."

Emma looped her arm in Regina's. "Come now," she said to her wife, "Leroy works hard in the mines. He's just exhausted."

"Or a drunk," Regina muttered under her breath.

Emma ignored Regina's ill temper. She patted the man on the back. "Leroy, you should really meditate. You'll feel much better."

Leroy sat up, yawning and stretching, allowing them to walk by. Once her wife was inside and out of earshot, Regina turned back to the man.

"Just put your tongue in an electrical socket, Leroy," she suggested. "It will be quicker."

Regina grinned as he stuck his tongue out and reached for the bottle of vodka by his side. She felt pleased until she felt her wife's grip on her jacket.

"I heard that!" Emma cried as she pulled her inside.

* * *

After getting the hot chocolate that Emma was craving, they headed next door to check into the inn. It was an old building that smelled of must—a scent Emma would describe with a familiar comfort. As soon as they got to the counter, Granny had a smile on her face.

"Emma Swan!" the older woman cried as she opened her arms for a hug. "Aw honey, you still got that glow!"

Emma blushed as she felt the embrace. "Thanks, Mrs. Lucas," she said, "but you know it's Mills-Swan now."

"And you know it's 'Granny' to you!" the woman sassed back with a hand on her hip. She looked over at Regina. "Ah yes, you married the Mills girl," she said, smiling, "Cora and Henry's daughter."

Regina nodded. "How are you, Mrs. Lucas?"

"Old!" she grumbled quickly, as if she expected the question and had the answer prepared on the tip of her tongue. "Ready for Ruby to take over, if ever she grows up and takes some responsibility!"

"Aw, I'm sure she will," Emma said in a hopeful voice.

The woman threw her hands up. "Ah well, can't get rest 'til she does," she said and looked over at Regina. "Can't stop the clock now, can we?"

Regina gulped nervously at the figure of speech. "So, do you have any vacancies?"

Granny looked over at the full key rack. She winked at Emma. "I think I can manage something," she said.

Regina took out her wallet to get her credit card. "Well, I want your best room," she said boisterously. "Only the best for my Emma."

Granny handed her the key. "Room 116," she said. "Anything for you two."

* * *

Regina carried their luggage up the stairs to the room. It was as if they weighed nothing, given the pace at which she flew. She was eager to start their vacation. Or rather, she was simply determined to figure out a way to keep Emma.

"Did you see that sign downtown? Seems like there are some holiday festivities in the town square tonight," she said, as she threw the bags onto a chair, "you love that stuff."

Emma shrugged. The last statement her wife had made sounded as if she was skimming over an invisible checklist, one designed to read off the things she enjoyed. It felt like Regina was working on another project—not spending time with the woman she loved.

Regina saw she wasn't happy. "What's the matter?"

Emma sighed. "Look, I know it's weird to be back here," she said, "but you've gotta take it down a few notches."

"What do you mean, love?"

"You're so," Emma paused as she studied her wife's expression, "…tense…"

"I just want the best for you," Regina answered, "that's all."

"Okay—just stop playing conquering hero."

"I'm not—"

But she was, and Emma knew it. "We're back here, everyone gets it," Emma explained. "—there's no need to show off."

"I'm not showing off—"

"Really?" Emma groaned. "Then why are you acting so weird?" She mimicked Regina's voice and made elaborate gestures with her arms. "'I want your best room for my Emma!'"

Regina sighed. "You're right—I'm sorry," she relented. "Why don't we take a walk, hmm? That'll be fun—we can unwind—"

Emma shrugged again. "Okay…give me a minute," she said and walked to bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

Just then, Regina heard a sound. She turned around to see Mr. Gold sitting on the bed.

"Not working out like you planned, is it, dearie?" the man asked.

"You!" Regina boomed, narrowing her vision on the imp. "What are you doing here?!"

He ignored her question. "You know she's right," he said. "You've got to settle down there, dearie. Relax."

"Relax?!" Regina balked. "You expect me to relax knowing what's going to happen on Christmas Eve?!"

Mr. Gold remained calm despite the brunette's furious rage. "You know, perhaps you should consider getting Emma a gift," he suggested.

"A gift? What kind of gift?"

He smiled with his familiar grin. "Oh, I don't know, dearie. Maybe something suitable for her last Christmas gift?"

"Like what?" Regina begged.

"I don't know—it's your gift," he answered. "Perhaps put a little thought into the woman whom you claim to love."

Regina crossed her arms in anger. "Fantastic," she shouted, "as if my nerves weren't rattled enough. Now I need to worry about getting her the perfect gift for her last Christmas!?"

Her rant was disrupted when she heard her wife call from the bathroom. _"Who are you talking to?"_

"It's no one, dear," she called back, "—just me!"

Regina turned back around, ready to strangle the imp. But much to her surprise, he was gone.

Emma opened the bathroom door to find her wife anxiously staring at the bed. "You really do need to relax," she said again, and then pulled her arm toward the door. "Come on!"

* * *

As they walked hand in hand down the street, Emma glowed with warmth. She honestly couldn't remember the last time they did this. They were still affectionate toward one another—using pet names and sharing kisses. But they hadn't walked like this in years. It was strange—ebbing into that familiar territory, especially in the place they had fallen in love. But as strange as it was, it was refreshing.

"I can't believe it's still here!" Emma cried as she pulled Regina up the stairs to the store. "I would always run down here when I was little and then my mother would know to come here and find me."

"Let's go in then, shall we?" Regina suggested.

The shop was covered, every inch with trinkets and gifts. As Regina scanned the room, she only saw knick knacks and other country antiques that she found unusual and appalling. But Emma loved these items, as they reminded her of home.

"It's filled with treasures," Emma said, "every single one tells a story."

Regina picked up a gnome from a table and brought it up to her ear. "This one's not much of a talker," she joked, making Emma laugh.

Emma wandered over to another table and picked up a book. "Regina, look!" she cried with excitement. "Last Summer in Storybrooke by August Booth."

Regina's face lit up at the sight, coming over to see the book. "Wow, do you remember how huge this was?" she asked as she flipped through some pages, "national book awards—"

"Yeah," Emma smiled. "Whoever thought you'd grow up to be his agent?"

"August put this town on the map," she said, still examining the text. "And guess what? Twenty years later, he's writing a sequel."

"Really?"

Regina nodded. She watched as Emma caught sight of a box filled with a Christmas scene. She saw her marvel over the tiny skater figures. She was fascinated by the decoration, as Regina could tell by the glint in her eyes.

* * *

After leaving the antique shop, the couple found themselves walking up Mifflin Street. Regina was reluctantly dragging behind. But Emma pulled her wife along the icy sidewalk.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Regina pleaded, desperately hoping Emma would change her mind. But she saw her wife was determined.

"I really want to see it!" she said with excitement. They looked up to the white mansion—Emma with nostalgia and Regina with—well, something else.

"Oh, I used to love coming over here!" Emma cried.

Regina smiled. "I couldn't wait to leave."

Emma turned to Regina, placing her hand lovingly just above her breast. "Your parents were so nice to me. Do you remember when I had to make that dress for home-economics and your mom helped me?" she asked with a huge grin. "And then we made you model it?"

"All too well," Regina groaned.

"Aww," Emma cooed as she kissed her cheek. "You looked beautiful in it." She then looked down at the pavement. "Aww!" she cried again as they knelt down to see their hand prints still casted in the cement. The words 'Em loves Reggie' were written under them.

All of a sudden, a man walked down from the hill on the front yard. Seeing the two women, he approached them. "Can I help you?" the man asked.

"Oh," Emma answered as they got up. She patted her wife's chest. "She used to live here."

The man came closer and stared closely. He winced his eyes for a moment. "Regina Mills?"

"Yes?"

"Killian Jones," he said, extending a hand. Regina and Emma remained bewildered, not recognizing the name immediately. He spoke again. "My mother made two dozen boiled eggs for the sophomore picnic…"

Regina and Emma looked at each other. "Egg man?" they asked in unison, upon recalling the memory.

He nodded.

"You live here?" Emma asked.

"Yeah, Tink and I bought the place a few years ago."

Regina looked surprised. "You married Tink?"

"Yeah," he said smiling. "You gotta come inside and say hi. She'd love to see you two."

"I can't believe you guys got married," Emma said, reiterating her wife's shock.

"Yeah, been together forever," he said, looking at both women, "—just like you guys. Come on in!"

* * *

After minutes of hugs, four of them instantly fell into catching up. The room was flooded with memories and warmth as they walked further into the house.

"Em," Tink said, "do you remember when we took driver's ed.?"

"Oh yeah," she said. "Let me guess, you're thinking of the incident with Mother Superior?"

"You ran over her foot."

Emma rolled her eyes as if it was no big deal. "She was being such a drama queen about it!"

Tink laughed loudly. "I'm fairly certain you made a nun curse." She said. Her face lit up with warmth and delight as she smiled again at them. "Oh, it's good to see you both again."

"You too!" Emma said. She began to look around. "Everything looks pretty much the same," she said, taking note of the only difference being the picture frames. She picked one up. "Are these your kids?"

Killian grinned, a proud father. "Yes, Tyler and Michelle," he said. "You two have any kids?"

Emma smiled. "No—not yet."

"Well, we insist you stay for dinner—meet them. You two our famous in our house."

"Oh yes," Tink added, resting her arm on her husband's shoulder. "They run around the neighborhood still seeing your names everywhere—carvings in the trees, on the sidewalks, writing on the fence—"

Regina blushed at the reminder of her juvenile days. Those were the days that she'd wander about in ripped jeans and a checkered shirt covered in paint, proud to proclaim her love for Emma in the form of defacement of public property. She wasn't so sure she was ready to relive her tom-boy, artsy youth.

* * *

While it felt odd at first, Regina had become comfortable once more in her childhood home. The six of them sat at the dining room in a very different manner than she had growing up with her father. In those days, the table was cold, as they'd often wait in silence for her mother to join them. But as she listened to the conversation tonight, Regina felt nothing but warmth.

Emma looked across the table at the two kids. "Do you guys ever go skating on the pond?" she asked.

"All the time!" a miniature version of Tink answered.

"I used to go out there for hours," she said, before taking a quick bite of her meal. "It was one of my favorite things to do."

"Me too!"

Emma wiped her face in her napkin. "You know what was my favorite part?" she said to them as they listened closely to their hero tell stories. "Just as it was getting dark, and everyone would head home, I'd stay out by myself just to skate alone. It was so peaceful. All I could hear was the sound of my own skates on the ice."

Killian looked over at Emma. "Can't get that kind of peace in Boston, can you?" he asked.

"No," Emma responded, shaking her head in disappointment, "we do have a really nice rink up on the North end," she continued, captivating Regina's attention. "But I can never really get time alone on the ice there. I wish I could."

Tink looked to them both. "So Regina," she said, holding her wine glass, "what about your job? Must be exciting—all the wielding and dealing."

Regina shrugged. "It has its moments."

Emma looked at her wife with mild confusion. Usually, she loved to talk about her work. "I still can't believe I tore her away," she said. "Must be divine intervention."

Regina nearly choked on her wine at her wife's unintentional pun.

* * *

After dinner, Regina joined Killian in the living room for a scotch. The last time she vaguely remembered drinking in his presence was when they were about seventeen. The two of them, along with Victor Whale and Ruby Lucas had skipped school, found some cheap rum and drank it on the beach. This was a much more refined setting.

"How about this, mate?" Killian let out. "Blast from the past. Funny how it turned out—me living here and not you—"

"I don't know," Regina sighed. "I really couldn't imagine living in the same house I grew up in—living in this same town."

Killian looked down at his glass and swirled its contents before taking a sip.

"Not that there's anything wrong with Storybrooke," she added, worried that she'd offended him.

"Not exactly a hot spot, is it?"

Regina shook her head.

Killian smiled over at her, knowing she'd always wanted to be in a city. "So, you left everything behind," he continued, "except Emma."

Regina returned the grin. "I took the best part of this town with me."

* * *

Meanwhile, Emma and Tink were in the kitchen cleaning up. Despite Tink's insistence that she didn't need to help, Emma had grabbed the dishes and began rinsing them.

"Killian and I have been together since….," Tink began, "…he threw a spitball at me in Ms. Tremaine's class."

"Ah, romance," Emma cooed.

Tink lit up with the memory fresh in her mind. "All this time, he still makes me laugh. We still really enjoy each other." Emma looked down and continued to load the dishwasher. "I don't know why I'm telling you this…I mean, you and Regina."

She continued as she held her glass. "You know, you are really lucky," she said, pouring them more wine. "I mean, I love my kids, but sometimes—there's just not a lot of alone time, ya know? Just me and Killian together." She handed Emma her glass. "You and Regina can just pick up and take off—".

Tink stopped midsentence when she realized Emma was crying.

"Oh, Sweetie, what's wrong?"

"It's just that—it used to be so easy between us," Emma began to break down. "Now we can't seem to connect."

"Oh, Em, all marriages go through that."

Emma frowned and shook her head. "No, she's so distant lately, and then all of a sudden, this morning—she just changed and she was so eager to please."

"Maybe that's a sign things are turning around, right?" Tink suggested, her voice laced with optimism.

"It just doesn't seem real."

"I wouldn't question it," Tink said, putting her hand to Emma's shoulder. "I mean, she's trying, right?"

Emma shook her head again. "A few months ago, I told her that I thought I was ready for a baby," she let out, and wiped away a tear. "I figured she'd be happy, you know?" Emma shook her head again and took a sip of her wine. "She didn't really have a great response—she just nodded and went along with it," she continued. "I found a donor and we've been doing in vitro transfers. At first I was scared it wasn't going to work." Emma sniffled more and wiped her eyes again. "Now I'm afraid of how she'll react when it does work."

Emma continued to sob. "I just keep thinking that maybe people aren't really meant to be together forever," she said and shrugged. "Maybe she's just not in love with me anymore."

Tink didn't know what to say. Everyone knew that over the years, Regina had become wrapped up in her career. She never saw her as being thrilled to be a parent. But for Emma's sake, she hoped she was wrong when the time came.

Neither of them had noticed Regina was standing just out of sight in the threshold of the door. Her heart sank in her chest upon hearing her wife's apprehensions. The worst part was she wasn't sure whether or not she could confirm or deny them. With the knowledge she currently held regarding Emma's fate, Regina knew she'd jump at the opportunity to parent their child. But had none of this happened—had her life not been redirected by Mr. Gold—she wasn't certain.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys, thanks for the reviews! Again, can't tale credit for the story itself...just the Swan Queen touches I've put to it. Also, clarification...Emma isn't telling Tink that she is pregnant...she's simply airing concern about Regina not really being excited about trying for a baby.**

**Anyway, here's chapter 4 :)**

* * *

The Jones family, along with Emma and Regina, headed down to the town square for the tree lighting. They had all bundled up in their warmest winter gear and took candles, ready to join in on the festivities.

"We started a new tradition a few years back," Killian said as they approached the town green. "Everyone in town paints an ornament with their name on it."

"Makes us feel like we're one big family," Tink added in, holding her kids close.

"That's beautiful," Emma said. It was much better than their lack of tradition—despite her best efforts to start ones with Regina.

"Yeah," Regina said, trying to bite back her sarcasm, "really nice."

The Jones family walked ahead with candles in hand. But Emma pulled Regina aside. It wasn't difficult for her to see that her wife was not in the holiday spirit.

"What?" she asked. "Is all this Christmas stuff too much for you?"

"No, I'm completely into it," Regina did her best to lie.

Little Michelle tugged at Emma's arm, before their fight could start. "Emma, come on!"

Regina was ready to follow behind, but her attention was called away when she heard whispering.

"Psstt," Mr. Gold called, "Ms. Scrooge Mills!"

Regina gave a fast glance at her wife and the Jones as they entered the crowd. She slipped off to the side, annoyed by the imp's appearance again.

"Gold, look—," she said as she got next to him. "Look, it's not working out so well."

"That's not good, dearie," he said. "You only have two days left."

"I know!" She pleaded with him. "I need more time."

"Sorry, fresh out of that, I'm afraid," he said. Seeing Regina distressed, he continued. "The deal was three days. That's all I'm allowed to give you."

"Come on, you could throw me another deal, can't you?"

"No. Christmas Eve. 11:58. That's it," he confirmed. "Listen, Regina, it's not up to me."

"This isn't fair!"

"I don't make the rules."

"Make an exception," Regina demanded.

Mr. Gold sighed. "Exceptions are made in only rare exceptions," he said, before looking her up and down. "And quite frankly, dearie, I don't see one here. You haven't made much progress with her."

"Then help me," Regina said as she tossed up her arms in anguish.

He thought for a moment, tapping his cane seemingly to the tune of the song playing nearby. "Have you given more thought to the gift?"

Regina nodded. "I think I have something—I want to surprise her."

"Good, surprises are good."

"Yeah?" Regina asked hopefully.

"Yeah," he nodded with a smile.

* * *

Emma held a candle as the town mayor began to address the eager crowd. They happily shivered together, despite the cold. They instead focused on the delightful sounds of the band as they filled the air with Christmas songs.

"I'm sure you folks must be wondering why our tree isn't lit," he began. The crowd began rustling with questions. "There seems to be a defect somewhere in the wiring."

As the people let out a sigh in unison of sadness, he continued. "I know, I know—I'm disappointed too," the mayor said into the microphone. He gestured to the musicians standing in the gazebo behind him. "But the band is hot tonight and they're taking requests!"

The crowd cheered and Emma raised her hand. "'I'll Be Home for Christmas'," she requested.

The mayor beamed in delight as he registered her face. "Isn't it a delight to have Emma Swan home for Christmas?" he asked the audience, causing instant cries of joy. Emma blushed at the attention from the town.

"And Regina Mills too!"

Emma looked around to find her wife nowhere in sight. "She's around here somewhere!" she called up to the mayor. She leaned in closer to Tink and whispered. _ "She's probably checking her phone messages."_

The two of them rolled their eyes and looked back up at the band. As the mayor called for people to help themselves to hot chocolate while the band began playing, Emma looked around once more. Her face fell into a familiar expression of disappointment when Regina was nowhere to be found.

"Want some hot cocoa?" Tink asked as she nudged her.

Emma nodded and smiled when she saw her friend had remembered the touch of cinnamon.

Notes from the piano drifted into the night air with melodies of the Christmas song. Emma wasn't paying attention to the stage much. Her gaze remained focused on shifting through the crowd, hoping to spot her wife. But instead, she only saw happy couples and families—bundled up and huddled together. She felt a cold chill on her cheek as a gust of wind picked up.

And out of nowhere, a sound so rarely heard, cut through the breeze and fly straight to her ears.

_"I'll be home for Christmas…"_

It was so heavenly to her. It was a sound she'd only heard coming from the shower or in the kitchen when no one was around.

_"…you can count on me…"_

Emma slowly turned around to the stage. She blinked her eyes twice to be certain she was seeing correctly. But her vision was just fine.

_"…please have snow, and mistletoe, and presents under the tree…"_

Regina Mills, her wife—was gazing longingly at her with her gloved hand wrapped tightly around the microphone. She hit the notes with such ease, making Emma wonder why her wife was ever self-conscious about her voice. She giggled, overcome with joy as Regina sang in front of the town—all for her.

_"…Christmas Eve will find me—where the love light gleams…"_

Regina had sauntered down the steps from the gazebo. She made her way through the crowd to where Emma stood. Once she had reached her wife, she lifted her hand to graze Emma's cheek.

_"I'll be home for Christmas—if only in my dreams. If only in my dreams."_

Emma ripped away the microphone and in one swoop, wrapped both arms around Regina's neck. The lovers kissed, receiving adoring noises from the crowd, encouraging their sweetness.

From a distance, Mr. Gold smiled warmly as he saw candles waving through the crowd. His eyes were focused on Regina and Emma. He shook his head and swiftly tapped his cane. Once he had, out of nowhere, the tree glittered and gleamed, fully illuminated.

* * *

As they walked back to the inn, arm in arm, Emma adorned Regina with praise. Regina could only blush as her wife went on.

"That was incredible," Emma cried. "Your singing—"

"Made dogs howl all over town," Regina asserted.

"No!" her wife protested. "It was beautiful! I just can't believe you did it."

Regina stopped her and pulled her closer. "Emma," she said just above a whisper, "I would do anything for you."

They kissed again in the bliss of the moment. But of course, they were interrupted when Killian and Tink, along with the kids, came up behind them.

"No encore, Reggie?" Killian asked.

Regina laughed. "No, that was a once in a lifetime moment there."

"Too bad your mother couldn't see it."

All joy had disappeared from Regina's face at the mention of her mother. She hadn't seen her in years. She honestly couldn't remember how long it had been. Every now and then, Emma would nag her to go visit, wanting the two of them to make their peace. But such suggestions usually lead to a fight, resulting in one of them sleeping on the couch.

"My mother?" she clarified to be sure she had heard correctly. It wasn't exactly a secret that they didn't get along, so she was surprised Killian would bring her up.

"Must be tough for her to get out now—," Killian mentioned.

"I wouldn't know." Regina's curt answer made the tension clear.

Emma drew in a deep breath. "Well, I'm getting cold," she said, making a fast excuse to avoid the conversation. She walked ahead of Regina. "I'll see you and Tink tomorrow."

But Killian continued probing Regina. "Have you been up there to see Cora lately?"

Regina shook her head. "She's in Florida or Phoenix—I really don't know at this point."

Tink and Killian exchanged confused glances. They looked over at Emma, who only bowed her head in shame. Regina looked back and forth to all three adults, realizing she was seemingly missing something.

"What's all this?" she asked. "What's going on?"

Feeling guilty, Emma finally spoke. "She's back here," she said softly. "She's in a retirement home."

Regina stared at her wife. Shock and disbelief swept over her. She turned back to Killian and Tink.

"Thanks for dinner," she said, and then turned to walk straight passed Emma.

* * *

The air was cold as they headed toward the inn. After walking in silence for a block, Regina addressed Emma, still keeping her eyes ahead.

"Is that why we came back here?" she asked. "To see my mother?"

"No," Emma insisted.

"I don't understand," Regina let out, "how did you know where she was? Last I heard, it was Boca Raton."

Emma stopped Regina in her tracks, pulling her closer by her long pea coat. "She came back three years ago," she said. "I keep in touch with her—she likes to know how you're doing."

Though she understood Emma's intentions, Regina pursed her lips, feeling a bit betrayed. "Does she know we're here?"

Emma shook her head.

Regina nodded. "Let's keep it that way," she said and kept walking.

"She's sick," Emma finally said. "She has emphysema."

"Yeah, well a carton a week will do that to you."

"Don't be so cruel!" Emma cried out as they stopped again.

"My mother was never home," Regina shot back. "She was always on the road. Business and pleasure. She left us twice." She looked Emma in the eye. "She treated my father like shit. I don't want to see her."

And with that, the conversation was over. They continued to the inn quietly. Without there being a couch for Regina to take, they slept in the bed, facing opposite directions.

* * *

The next day, having taken the night to get over the minor disagreement, Regina and Emma bundled up for a walk in the park. Children were playing in the snow, digging tunnels and building forts. They could hear their laughter echo as they made their way out of the woods.

"I did hope you would see her," Emma finally admitted, having had time to reflect on the Cora situation. "I mean, I guess that is part of the reason I wanted to come back."

The snow crunched under their boots as they treaded closer to an open area. "And the other part?" Regina asked, turning to her wife, who was gripping onto her arm.

"We grew up here," Emma said, with a longing desire heavy in her hopeful voice. "This is where we fell in love. I guess I was hoping that—"

Regina pulled Emma to face her. "Look, Emma," she sighed, "I know that we haven't spent enough time together."

Emma shook her head. "It's not that," she said, taking a long breath. "You always used to notice me. You used to look at me—like I was special."

"I still do."

Emma kept walked as did Regina. "Lately, I feel like you're annoyed—like you're embarrassed of me or something."

"Embarrassed?" Regina questioned, as if in her mind, that notion couldn't be further from the truth.

"I mean, you have this big career and—"

Regina pulled her close again. "Emma, I don't care about any of that," she said, placing her hands firmly on Emma's shoulders. "Emma—I'm so proud of you."

Emma was speechless. She studied Regina's face, not willing to believe her wife was proud. But she looked for the longest time. Regina was telling the truth.

As they moved passed a rather elaborate tunnel that some of the children had dug, they were once again arm in arm. They sighed happily, taking in the comfort of the familiar scenery.

"We've walked down here so many times," Emma said.

"Yeah," Regina nodded, blushing a bit. "Made lots of plans."

Emma smiled and over at Regina. "Did they turn out like you'd hoped?"

Regina thought for a moment. "I think I'm learning—not to plan too much," she said, as she slowed her gait. "I'm trying to live more in the moment, like you."

"Really?" Emma asked. Hey eyebrows arched so high that her entire forehead moved, pushing her beanie higher up. "Hmm—" A devilish glint sparkled in her eye as she grinned.

Before Regina knew what was happening, Emma had bent down and scooped up a mound of snow. She shoved the snowball in her face, snow dust flying everywhere. Regina remained stunned as Emma giggled wildly.

"That's in the moment!" Emma managed to laugh out.

Regina had begun to laugh as well. "I'll show you in the moment."

Her arms swung out toward her wife, tackling her to the ground. Emma squealed as they hit the snow. Their fit of laughter had quickly turned to a romantic tussle with Regina on top. Emma pulled her closer by her scarf and kissed her lips.

All of a sudden, they heard shouting. As Regina and Emma pulled their lips apart and turned their heads, they realized the sounds were cries for help. They got up and ran toward the sound.

_"Help! The fort collapsed!"_

Regina rushed ahead and dove at the tunnel's caved in entrance. She pushed a few kids out of the way and began digging. Emma asked a few of them what had happened, but they simply shrugged.

"She's buried in here," Regina cried. "It's Michelle!"

Emma rushed to Regina's side and began digging as well. Their hearts raced as they pushed snow out of the way. Emma yelled the girl's name, hoping she would hear. Regina finally caught sight of her boot and gave it a tug. Both women struggled to pull her out.

"Michelle, honey," Emma pleaded. "Can you hear me?"

Emma removed the girl's scarf and turned her ear to her mouth. "She's not breathing, Reg," she said. She began performing CPR as Regina wiped out her phone to dial 911. But as soon as she went to hit the button, she looked up to see Mr. Gold appear several feet away.

He simply sat and watched the scene unfold. Regina's eyes met his, searching for relief. But there was nothing.

It was only after Michelle coughed after several pounds to the chest that Regina was able to smile, gratefully.

Emma scooped the girl in her arms. "Hey, Michelle, it's okay."

She coughed a bit more. "I—I saw angels."

Regina's gaze instantly flew back to Mr. Gold, only to see he had disappeared.

"They talked to me," Michelle continued. "They said they were waiting—they angels are waiting—for you."

Regina and Emma stared at the girl in shock. Emma finally broke her baffled expression to bundle the girl up again. "It's okay, sweetie."

* * *

After returning the girl to Killian and Tink, Emma and Regina took a more private dinner at a restaurant in town. It was an old favorite of theirs. Regina used to save up all of her paychecks for weeks when they were in high school—just to take Emma there for dinner. Now, they could actually enjoy the wine they dreamed about sipping by the inviting fireplace.

"That was scary," Emma said, holding her glass.

"Yeah, I know."

"You were amazing."

Regina blushed. "So were you, dear."

Emma cut a piece of her meat as she thought. "It was weird what she said though—'the angels are waiting for you."

Regina wiped her face with the cloth napkin. "Well, she was delirious."

"Yeah," Emma sighed, "but you know how you hear all those near death experience stories? It was just strange that that's what she said—that they were waiting for me."

Regina poured them more wine as Emma continued. "I mean, I'd like to believe that there are angels. Another side. A spiritual side." She smiled over at her wife. "I know—that's much too irrational for you."

"Not at all," Regina corrected her. "I believe."

"Oh really?" Emma chuckled. "Your such a solid proof kinda girl—"

"Yeah—," Regina let out when she looked over toward the wall. She saw Mr. Gold was watching them from a distance. When she saw him smile back, she nearly tipped over a glass of water.

Emma caught the glass just in time. "What is wrong?" she asked, almost playfully. "You're so jumpy."

"No, I just—just excited."

"About what?"

"Well," Regina said, putting her hands up, "I was going to wait for dessert, but I might as well show you what I've been carrying."

"Is it for me?" Emma giggled as Regina placed a large, wrapped gift on the table.

"Yes," she said, "now open it."

Emma awed in delight as she ripped the paper, revealing the Christmas skater scene that she'd found in the antique shop. She looked over every inch of it, loving it all.

"I can't believe you got this for me!"

"Do you like it?" Regina asked.

"Yes," Emma answered, pulling her in for a kiss.

They returned their attention to their plates. Emma scratched the back of her head, the way she did often when she was nervous.

"You know," she began with a smile, "Tyler and Michelle are so cute. They look like little Killian and Tink." She took a moment more to think. "Does seeing that make you think you ever want one?"

"Kids?" Regina asked nervously. "I mean—yes—we picked out the donor and we've been doing in vitro—"

"I know, but," Emma sighed. "We keep saying we'll keep trying, but I feel like...I don't know. I know you say it's not the right time, but I'm not getting any younger."

Emma had a glint in her eye. "Maybe now is the right time—maybe now is the perfect time."

Regina looked over to where Mr. Gold stood, leaning against his cane. The man simply shrugged.

"Emma," she said, returning her glance to the table, "I really want to have kids with you. I really want to start a family with you more than anything." She began shaking her head in doubt. "I just don't know if now is—the right time."

"You know," Emma said, looking down. "You keep trying to plan this and push off more appointments. It's almost as if you're trying to plan this to _not_ happen now." She shook her head, disappointed. "You can't expect there to be some magical, perfect moment. Life doesn't work that way. We never know what's in the future—we can never know."

A little disgusted by her wife's lack of passion, Emma wiped her face and excused herself from the table. Regina looked away for a mere moment, only to see Mr. Gold sit down when she turned back around.

"Except you know what the future holds, don't you, Regina?" he asked.

"And it's killing me," Regina answered him. "I want to have kids with her more than anything."

"You didn't seem interested before that night, dearie."

Regina gave him a scowl as she took her wine. "I agreed to every one of those damn appointments."

"Ah, yes," he said, shifting his cane to point the handle her way. "But your heart wasn't in it."

"I was," Regina said, "naïve before."

Mr. Gold smiled. "That's part of the problem." He tapped his cane lightly before resting it against the table. "You think your mother has anything to do with this?"

"My mother?!" Regina asked, as she was confused how the two were connected.

"Yes," he nodded. "Maybe your abandonment issues from your mother are effecting your attitude toward having children with Emma."

"I don't care about her," she spat back. "This is about Emma."

"Regina, life isn't a bunch of marbles bouncing around," he said. "Everything is connected."

She scoffed at him. "Where did you learn that?"

"Angel Metaphysics," he proudly answered. "Top of my class."

Regina sighed. "If I deal with my mother, will that help with Emma?"

Mr. Gold nodded. "Only those who forgive can be forgiven."

Regina laughed as she picked up her glass, tilted her head, and mimicked his voice. "'Angel Metaphysics, dearie?'"

"Fortune cookie," he said, shaking his head. "But it's still good advice."

Regina looked over to the box that still sat on the table. "You like the gift?"

He shrugged. "I suppose it's nice," she said, "but it's not the gift I was talking about."

"She wanted this though."

Mr. Gold looked Regina square in the eye, finding it hard to believe she was that dense that she truly believed the crappy wooden box would suffice to save the thing she loved most. "It still hasn't sunk in, yet, has it," he said, angrily palming his head in his hand. "Regina, go see your mom."


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys, thanks for the reviews! Enjoy chapter 5 with a healthy dose of Cora :)**

* * *

As they walked passed the sign reading, "Shady Tree Retirement Home", Emma couldn't help but feel confused. Less than twenty-four hours ago, Regina seemed absolutely opposed to the idea of seeing her mother. Even on their walk in the morning, she didn't seem thrilled about the prospect.

"What changed your mind?" Emma asked as they neared the door.

"I don't know," Regina began, "I guess being back here got me thinking—all that resentment built up toward my mother—that has to have an impact on me."

"Of course," Emma said, putting her hand to Regina's chest.

"And shutting her out hasn't stopped her from having an effect on my life."

"Wow," Emma gasped, "how…insightful of you."

Regina stopped in her tracks. "Is this okay?"

"Yes," Emma cried, "of course, honey. I'm just—surprised, that's all."

Regina huffed. "Thanks, I think," she said sarcastically.

"Oh come on," Emma teased back, "You know exactly what I mean—you don't like to stop and analyze your "stuff"—you just like to plow through it."

Regina sneered at Emma, though she knew she was right. She sighed, and pulled Emma closer. "Well, I can't do that anymore," she said, "especially if any of that stuff comes between me and you."

Emma stopped, not wanting to refute or prod any further. Instead, she smiled, accepting whatever this change was that had been washing over Regina. "You ready?"

* * *

Upon entering the building, the two of them made their way down the stairs to the recreation room. Emma knew they'd find Cora there, playing cards most likely. Sure enough, she looked over to see Regina's mother setting up a game of Solitaire.

"Hey there," Emma called to her. "I thought I could find a good game of poker down here." She kissed her mother-in-law on the cheek. "Hi, Cora."

"Oh!" Cora cried as she took Emma's hands in hers. "I didn't know you were coming!"

Emma laughed. "That's why they call it a surprise."

"Oh, you got me, Sweet Pea," Cora said, pinching Emma's cheek.

"Hello Mother," Regina said, causing Cora to look up in shock. "How are you?"

After Cora got over her surprise at seeing her daughter, she answered. "Well, darling, I can't walk any more than ten steps before sitting down. Can't go anywhere without my tank here," she said, motioning to the oxygen tank beside her, "but other than that, no complaints."

"You're looking older," Cora added once she'd taken the chance to really look at Regina.

"It's been awhile."

"So Merry Christmas," Emma said, breaking the tension.

Cora smiled. "Same to you, Sweetheart," she said. "Come on, sit down. Tell me everything."

"Well," Emma began, "it's really nice to be back in town. It's so beautiful here in the winter."

Cora had sadness in her eyes. "I don't get out much to enjoy it," she said, reaching for her oxygen mask. "But I do know what you mean."

Emma watched Regina's mild reaction to Cora, as she inhaled from the mask. Her wife didn't show it, but when she saw her lips curl ever so slightly, she knew she was horrified by the sight. Emma squeezed her hand gently in comfort.

"Of all the places I've gone in my travels," Cora said, "and what do you know? I come here in the end."

"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" Regina spat out. "I mean, Dad's dead, your daughter's all grown. Now you come home?"

"You want to lash out at me?" Cora asked defensively. "Is that why you came here?"

"No," Emma interrupted. "We wanted to visit with you." She turned back to give Regina a stern, reprimanding glare. "There will be plenty of time to talk."

Cora looked over at her daughter. "So Emma's kept me posted," she said, "sounds like you're doing pretty well for yourself."

"I do okay," Regina answered, showing no emotion.

"Don't sell yourself short," Cora insisted. "You're a real big shot. Nice office for yourself?" Regina nodded. "A real salesperson—just like your mother."

Regina shook her head.

"Well, you sell books and I sold sundries, but it's all the same," Cora added as she dealt out the cards without thinking otherwise.

"It's not, Mother," Regina said.

"Sure it is," Cora said, poking her elbow at Emma. "Where do you think she got her skills from?"

Regina's anger was peaking. "You talk like you had anything to do with my success," she quipped out. "It had nothing to do with you. My father raised me. You're just the woman with the suitcase."

"How dare you, you insolent—," Cora started to fire back. But she stopped herself. She took a moment to calm herself. "I worked hard for my family, Regina. My business required me to travel."

"Yes, I know," Regina said, "you had boyfriends and lovers in every city."

"I kept food on the table," Cora said, dismissing the rightful accusation of her affairs. "You never wanted for anything."

Regina shook her head. "Just one thing." After that, she lifted herself from the table. Despite Emma's calls for her to return, she left the retirement home.

Emma turned back to Cora. "I'm sorry," she said, as she patted her arm. She then went to follow Regina, hoping to help resolve the tension.

* * *

The blonde raced out of the door and called out to her wife as she walked away, the tails of her pea coat swaying with her anger. "Regina, stop!"

"No."

"Regina, come back inside," Emma pleaded.

"No, I tried," Regina answered. "What's the point?"

"You have to," Emma sighed. "She's sick, Regina. You don't know how long she has—what if you never get to see her again?"

Regina turned around to look into Emma's eyes. The words hit her hard. She threw her hands up to cover her face in distress. Emma's last words stayed with her, reminding her of the ticking time clock she was battling. "Oh my god, what am I doing?" she asked, seemingly not directing the question to Emma.

"Emma, listen to me," she said, reaching to hold her hands, "I will deal with my mother, I promise you—just not now."

Emma looked down, accepting Regina's sudden shift in demeanor. "Okay," she whispered. Regina embraced her in a tight hug. She brought her lips to Emma's ear, with a tear in her eye.

"I need more time," Regina pleaded into the night air.

* * *

They walked home together, the frozen remnants of the melted bits crunching and bouncing under their boots. Regina walked with her hand tightly laced with Emma's, wanting to be as close as she possibly could. She felt as if any bit of time not touching her, not holding her to protect her, was time lost.

"I know it must have been hard to see your mother," Emma finally said, "I shouldn't have pushed you."

"It's okay," Regina said softly. "I guess it could have gone better."

"Well, that was just the first step," Emma reassured. "You can't expect everything that's wrong with a relationship to be fixed after one meeting."

Regina stopped and faced Emma, wanting to switch the subject. "You know, we should do something tonight," she suggested with a sudden enthusiasm.

"Like what?" Emma asked, chuckling.

"Well, what is there in town?"

Emma laughed. "It's not as if there are a plethora of choices—"

Regina reached her arm out, pulling Emma to follow. "Wait, come here!" She pulled them across the street as the jazz music filled their ears. They looked inside from the frosted window to see a lit room, full of people in tuxedos and dresses. Emma smiled when she saw a bride and groom, dancing in the center of the room.

"It's their first dance," Emma pointed out as they watched the couple sway.

"We never had our first dance, did we?" Regina asked.

Emma turned to her, a bit angry that she'd forgotten. "Yes we did!" she exclaimed. "Ruby Lucas's Sweet Sixteen."

"No," Regina laughed, "I meant as a married couple."

Emma sighed. "I guess not officially."

After another moment of watching, Regina tilted her head. "Ever sorry we eloped?"

"Sorry?" Emma asked, surprised. "It was my idea," she added sweetly as she nuzzled Regina's shoulder.

"You missed out on the party," Regina added, nudging her chin toward the lit room.

Emma turned to her and put a hand to Regina's cheek. "No, I didn't," she answered.

Regina blushed, silently. She moved her body to face her wife, and extended a hand with an invitation. As the music hummed out to them, their bodies intertwined to its rhythm. They swayed on the moonlit street, dancing cheek to cheek.

* * *

Later that night, after more dancing and some tumbling under the sheets, Regina was wide awake. She watched as the thin pale blue sheet gently folded over the curves and lines of her wife. She was so beautiful and Regina felt entranced. The only thing that broke her haze was when the blankets rustled.

"What are you doing?" Emma asked, waking up slowly as she sat up in bed.

"Watching you," Regina answered from the shadows. Her head rested on her clasped hands, her lips next to her wedding band.

"Fascinating," Emma joked.

"Oh, it is, dear," she confirmed. Regina rubbed Emma's arm as she swooped back down to the pillow to join her wife. "Do you have any idea—how much I cherish you?" she asked as she got closer. "Do you?"

After a moment of silence, Emma smiled and put her hand to her wife's chest. "I think so." Regina kissed her forehead and continued to rub her side. Just then, she heard the familiar tapping of Mr. Gold's cane echo in her ears. She slowly shifted her weight and got up to check the window. Down on the sidewalk, sure enough, he was waiting.

* * *

Regina bundled herself up in a coat and was outside within minutes. She approached Mr. Gold, a little annoyed by his intrusion upon their intimacy.

"You really have the worst timing," she said, as she shivered, her body's elevated temperature now dropping.

He ignored her snarky comment. "You have the time?"

"Yes," she said, with a knowing glare as they walked up the block. "It's eleven fifty-eight."

"Exactly twenty-four hours left, dearie," the man added.

"I don't care what you say," Regina quipped back, "Emma's not going anywhere tomorrow."

"Regina, I told you—"

"I don't care!" Regina shouted.

"I thought you understood."

Regina stopped and turned to Mr. Gold. "No," she answered, "I don't understand. Why?" She narrowed her gaze and deeply fixated on the man in front of her. "Why does she have to die?—And don't give me that Angel metaphysics crap—that stuff's not going to cut it for me."

"Okay, I'll give it to you straight," he said, bringing both hands to rest on his cane. "I'll speak your language. We have an agreement—an arrangement—a contract, if you will, a binding verbal agreement. You get three days, we get Emma."

"No!" Regina yelled back. "Things have changed. The terms are unacceptable."

Mr. Gold laughed hard at this. "Don't try to 'agent' me, Regina. You can't renegotiate this."

"You can always renegotiate," Regina refuted.

"Look," Mr. Gold sighed, "if Emma skips out on her day with destiny, the whole cosmic balance is thrown out of whack."

Regina threw up her hands. "There has to be a loophole," she insisted. "You said yourself that sometimes, there are exceptions."

Mr. Gold looked sympathetically into Regina's nearly crying eyes. "Regina," he offered, "if you truly love her, you will figure it out."

And with that, Mr. Gold walked away. He left Regina clutching her jacket together, close to her heavy hearted chest.

* * *

The next day, the town center was bright and beautiful as Regina and Emma walked toward the green. Emma eagerly held their two ornaments in her hand, excited to add their names to the town's tradition.

"Ah," she said as they got near the tree, "now the question is where—". Her eyes traced the evergreen branches up and down as she searched for the perfect spot for her snowman ornament. A smile filled her face as she reached her hand upward, placing the snowman that had her name stitched on its front side.

Regina instantly moved to place hers on another branch before Emma stopped her. "No, wait!" she cried. "You can't just place it anywhere!"

"But you did!" Regina protested.

Emma laughed. "No, I felt it—you need to feel it." As Regina reached up once more, putting her glove to a cluster of pine needles, Emma hit her hand.

"Not literally!" she cried, and then told her to close her eyes. "Now, _feel_—where does your ornament belong?"

Regina smiled as she eyed Emma's snowman. She closed her eyes and began to move close to her wife's ornament. She opened one eye, making her wife laugh, and quickly moved to place her own snowman next to Emma's.

She turned to Emma. "It belongs right here. With yours," she said, and kissed her forehead.

"Aww," Emma said, kissing Regina's temple. "I can't wait to get home!"

"No," Regina said, instantly. The very thought of returning to Boston—anywhere near that street—made a chill run through her body. "I like it here."

"I do too," Emma laughed, "but it's Christmas Eve!"

"Exactly," Regina nodded, taking Emma's hands in hers. "We could spend it with Killian and Tink!"

Emma clutched Regina's woven scarf as she playfully hung from it. "I want to spend Christmas Eve with you—alone—in our apartment," she said, "with our Christmas tree, which we still have to get!"

"But, it's so much more—"

"Nope, Regina," Emma said, cutting her off. "It's my choice. We're going back to Boston. Come on!" She grabbed her wife's hand and pulled her back to Granny's Inn so they could check out and be on their way.

* * *

Just before they finished packing their bags, Granny was busy downstairs checking in none other than the famed August W. Booth. She practically swooned in excitement as the writer signed the paperwork for a room.

"It's such a pleasure to have you back," she said, as he nodded in appreciation of her praise. "I'm a fan of all of your books, especially the one you wrote here—'Last Summer in Storybrooke'."

He smiled politely as the woman continued.

"I always thought I was the model for that sly, stunningly beautiful Roxanne," Granny said with a devilish glint in her eye.

August looked her up and down and raised his eyebrow. "You got me," he said, placating her delusions.

Regina walked down the stairs in the middle of the conversation. She was surprised to see him. Sure, she knew he was working on his sequel, and taking time in the town to get inspiration. But she didn't expect to see him on Christmas Eve.

"August," she said, getting his attention, "what are you doing here?"

"Regina," he said, equally surprised. "What on Earth—?" He dismissed the thought, remembering she had mentioned growing up here. "Well, it was your idea, remember? Getting away—researching my next book idea?"

"Sorry—I'm a bit out of it," she said, just as Emma approached the top of the staircase.

"What's the matter?" August asked, a cheeky grin bright on his face. "The enchanting Miss Ariel not along with you this time around?"

Regina gasped at the obvious misunderstanding. She desperately hoped he would stop there, but instead, he began laughing.

"I must say," August added, pointing a finger at Regina's chest, "slipping out of your hotel room in her negligée at one in the morning, claiming she needed toothpaste!"

But Regina didn't care about anything else he had to say. Her eyes met Emma's, and she saw the hurt and heartache swell. Emma ran down the staircase and out the door.

"Emma!" she called after her, but it was too late.

* * *

Regina ran out the door and into the snow, still calling after her wife. But Emma kept marching, absolutely infuriated.

"Emma, Emma," she cried. "Nothing happened—she was just there—" she yelled as she slipped and fell on the ice. This gave Emma just enough time to throw her bag in the car and start up the Mercedes.

She rolled down the window and screamed to Regina, who was still on the ground. "You know, I thought we really connected here, but it was just your guilty conscience!" And with that, she rolled up the window, hit the gas hard, and sped away.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Regina found herself with Killian at the train station. She had walked over to their house and explained what had happened. He agreed to drive her to the station. But after he saw Regina walking back toward his car, he hopped out.

"I can't believe it!" Regina yelled. "I missed the damn train."

"You can take the next one," Killian suggested.

"No," she said, shaking her head, "I have to find Emma. I have to get to Boston." She fumbled nervously toward his car door. "I need to borrow your car, Killian—I'll pay you for it and drive it back tomorrow!"

Her temper was flaring and Killian could see she was ready to erupt. He tried to calm her. "The next train is at four," he said. "Will all the holiday traffic, it makes sense to wait for it."

Regina sighed, contemplating his words. "Train will get you home quicker, mate," he added.

"You're right," she finally admitted.

He nodded. "Why don't you come up to the house?" he suggested. "Tink will make you some tea and we can—"

"I can't, Killian," she interrupted. "I can't sit still right now."

Before he could say anything further to persuade her, Regina was off, walking up the street.

* * *

Regina found herself once more staring at the Shady Tree Retirement Home sign. She figured that she had a few hours to kill—where better to go than to visit with a woman who knew about screwing up? She walked in to the home and down the stairs again, looking for the person playing Solitaire.

The recreation room was dimly lit and relatively empty. Only a few inhabitants sat around, as most people were visiting with their families. But sure enough, Regina looked over to a table by the window where her mother sat alone.

"Hi Mom," she said as she approached her mother.

"Regina?" Cora said in surprise, as she glanced over to her daughter, now sitting beside her. "What are you doing back?"

Regina took a deep breath. "I want to apologize for leaving that way the other night."

Cora looked down to the deck of cards in her hand. "You had every reason to," she said, as she shuffled the cards. "I've been thinking about it—I could have done better by you." Her eyes shifted back to focus on Regina. "I can't make up for the past," she added, "but I hope there's still time for us to make amends."

Regina smiled at her mother. "I'm pretty big on second chances now."

Cora flashed her a grin. "A game of gin rummy then?" she asked.

"I'd like to, but I have to find Emma," Regina said. She looked down in sadness, a tear streaming down her cheek. "I've messed up, Mother. She thinks there's another woman—there's not—only her."

Cora coughed a bit before responding. "You're lucky, Regina." She moved to grab the oxygen mask from the tank at her side and took a few fresh breaths. "All my years of messing around—I didn't realize how much I loved your father," she said. "Not until after he died."

Regina kept her gaze down at the table while her mother continued. "I never had a chance to tell him," she added. "Emma will understand. You two will work it out. You two have a whole lifetime together."

As her mother's final remark, new tears formed in Regina's eyes. She held her mother's hand, silently thanking her for the apology and words of hope. As she walked back to the train station in the dark evening hours, Regina cried harder, wishing hope would be enough.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! Thanks for the reviews! Here's chapter 6, and chapter 7 should be up tomorrow, in time for Christmas Eve :)**

* * *

The train rushed through the snowy darkness. Regina sat alone, looking out into the cold from the lit cabin. Tears still fell from her eyes as she felt the hope dwindling away. She knew they'd made progress, but not nearly enough to change fate. Given the current situation on top of all of that, she thought it almost impossible to save Emma.

City lights and honking gave her an unwanted welcome as she fled the station, desperately in search for her love. She quickly hailed a cab, threw her bag in, and joined the traffic.

"Can't you go around this guy?" she asked the driver. "You can hop up on the curb and cut across."

"Lady, it's Christmas Eve," he answered. "There's traffic."

"Fine," Regina spat back as she opened her purse. She handed him the amount of money the meter currently called for, grabbed her bag, and jumped out. It was only a few more blocks down and one over to their apartment. She could easily run faster.

When she reached the apartment, the lights were still off. She looked everywhere, just to be certain. She called out to Emma, but got no response. Knowing Emma was elsewhere, she went back to the streets.

She looked everywhere, her eyes darting through crowds. She checked faces, clothes, shoes—desperate for any sign of Emma. Regina sighed in relief when she saw a young blonde from behind in a red leather jacket, sitting on a bench.

"Emma, Sweetie," she said, as she put her hand to the woman's shoulder. But when she turned around, startled, Regina saw it wasn't Emma. "Sorry—I thought you were someone else."

When the young girl moved on, Regina looked over at the bench across the way. On it was an advertisement with a silhouette of a single skater. _'Enjoy indoor skating at the North End Skate Club'_. Instantly, the idea hit her and she bolted as fast as she could to the rink.

* * *

The rink was dimly lit, a blue glow from the ice remained confined to its limits. As nine o'clock approached, the skaters took their last laps and slowly moved toward the exit following the closing announcement. Emma watched from the bleachers as friends and families climbed the steps, still giggling in glee.

Regina entered from the top and looked down, immediately spotting her wife. She walked down, against the massive crowd, and carefully shimmied her way in-between benches.

"Not skating tonight?" she asked Emma as she stood beside her. Regina looked at her wife, hopeful for a response, but there was nothing. "Emma, I know how it sounded," she let out, "and I know I should have told you she was there. But nothing happened. I swear."

"Nothing would ever happen," Regina added as she turned Emma to face her. "I love only you. I love you."

Emma smiled through her tears as she hugged her wife, burying her face in her pea coat.

"You have to skate," Regina said suddenly, the revelation just hitting her. "Alone."

"But it's closed," Emma answered, wiping away her tears. But Regina wasn't hearing a word of it. She raced to grab a pair of skates.

"That could be it," she cried, "that could be the gift!"

"Regina, what are you talking about?"

But Regina didn't answer. "Put these on," she said, handing the shoes to Emma. "Just trust me on this one, dear."

Regina ran out onto the ice just as the maintenance guy came out to smooth over the ice. "Wait!" she pleaded as he began to drive the vehicle further. She chased after him. "Wait, please!" she begged. "My wife has to skate!"

"Rink's closed, Ma'am," he said. Regina pulled out a wad of cash from her wallet. "Look, I understand," she said, riffling through the money, "I'd be happy to compensate you. You can have my whole wallet. I just really need this favor—it's her Christmas gift."

The man looked down at her. He saw the desperation in her eyes. "Five minutes," he said, refusing to take the wallet.

Regina smiled. "Thank you, sir. Merry Christmas!"

* * *

She was beautiful. There were no other words to describe the grace Emma possessed when gliding alone on the ice. Everything about it was seamless and carefree. That's how it looked to Regina as she watched her wife, dance with no one but the air, out on the chill ice.

Regina turned to give a simple glance when she heard footsteps and the light tapping of a cane approach. She quickly shifted back to look at the ice, not wanting to miss another moment.

"She's beautiful," Mr. Gold said.

Regina nodded with a warm smile. "Yes, she is indeed." Without looking at him, she continued. "So that's it then—nothing happens. Eleven fifty-eight comes, Emma lives."

"How do you figure, dearie?"

"She knows I love her, and I gave her the gift," she added, her head tilting toward the ice.

Mr. Gold tapped his cane. "First of all, fifteen minutes ago, she thought you betrayed her," he said, looking at Regina. "She may have forgiven you, but is she sure of your love? I'm not convinced."

Regina looked as if she had a retort, but the impish man went on. "Second of all," he added, motioning to the ice, "this is lovely, but please—"

"What are you talking about?!" she spat back. "She wanted this!"

"This is not the gift," he said boldly, seeing Regina's mouth drop with anxiety. "Don't lose hope let, dearie. You still have time—three whole hours."

And with that, he tapped his cane and vanished, leaving Regina to admire her skating Swan.

* * *

"Thank you for letting me skate," Emma said, nuzzling Regina as they walked home. "Another great Christmas present."

"That's not your present!" Regina beamed out, knowing inside there was still something else she needed to do. She took Emma's hand in hers and began pleading. "What else do you want, dear? What else can I give you?"

Emma laughed at Regina's hopeful eyes. "I don't need anything, baby."

"Well, just think," Regina insisted. "I want you to know how much I love you."

"Buying me something isn't going to prove anything, Reg," Emma said.

"It might!" Regina cried, still racking her brain to think of any possible material possession her wife would want.

Emma glowed with a grin. "Well, I know a Christmas present we both got," she said just above a whisper. "I'm pregnant."

Regina dropped her jaw in complete awe and happiness. It was a happiness she never expected to have. But there it was. Emma was going to give her a baby.

"I've known for six weeks that it took," Emma said, beginning to get teary eyed. "The last round—when we tried implanting your eggs," she added, smiling in delight that she was carrying Regina's baby. "I've been waiting for the perfect moment to tell you, but I guess this isn't—"

Regina swept her up in an all-consuming hug, as she was crying now too. She held her tight to her chest, not wanting to ever let go.

"Are you happy?" Emma asked upon release.

"I'm so happy," Regina cried.

They walked home, hand in hand. For a moment, Regina forgot everything. She forgot about the deal. Mr. Gold was far from her mind and the only timeline she was thinking of with great anticipation was the next eight months, not the next three hours.

* * *

They managed to find a Christmas tree on their way home. Regina chuckled to herself that Emma had selected the same, scrawny little tree as before, despite her presence there to help carry a larger one. She struggled just the same to get it in the stand, but did so with a huge smile on her face.

"I think this year is going to be the best Christmas we've had," Emma said as she hung and ornament. Regina wrapped her arms around her wife, her hand on the still flat stomach, just happy to know their child was there.

"I'm glad they still had trees," she continued, "it would have been so sad to wake up tomorrow without one." Regina smiled as she watched her wife grab the next box of decorations.

"You know what I can't wait to do?" Emma asked. "Get all those books—you know, those books about what to expect when you're expecting—". She flew to Regina's side again. "Oh and the baby name books! It will be so hard to pick one!"

"We'll name it whatever you like," Regina said, kissing her forehead.

"No," Emma said, pulling back. "I want to do this together—every step of the way." Regina nodded. "So tell me," Emma went on with a smile, "do you want to know if it's a boy or a girl?"

Regina bit her lower lip in a grin. "No," she said.

"Me neither," Emma added. "One of life's great remaining mysteries." They kissed passionately over the love they already had for their child.

Emma got up to put away an empty box. "Just think," she said happily, "next year, we'll be tripping over all the toys."

"That sounds wonderful," Regina said, still admiring her wife.

Emma laughed as she came up behind Regina, wrapping her arms around her waist. "And then, we'll have three stockings on the mantle," she added, leaning in for a kiss.

Regina held her hand to Emma's cheek. "I want nothing more."

"Hmm," Emma chuckled. She pulled at Regina's sweater and bit her lip. "You know what I want..?" But before Regina could answer, she found herself being pulled into the bedroom.

* * *

Regina rose after resting her eyes after they'd made love. The clock on the nightstand read eleven forty-seven. She smiled as she looked to her sleepy wife. It wasn't going to happen—how could it? They were warm, safe—together. The only thing touching them was the silky bed sheet. As she watched Emma stirring, she sighed in joy.

"Hey baby," Emma said as she awoke. Regina grew nervous when the blonde seemed to have more energy.

"Where are you going?" she asked, leaning into her as she tried to put on pajama pants.

"Just the bathroom," Emma said, chuckling at Regina's impatience. "I'll be right back."

"No," Regina moaned. "Stay in bed."

Emma got up in her cotton pajama bottoms, throwing on one of Regina's white button downs over her shoulder. "You're crazy, baby," she said before sauntering off to the bathroom.

Before she did, the phone rang. Instantly, Regina flew up in protest. "Don't answer it!" she cried.

"Baby, Regina, what's the matter with you?" Emma asked as she reached for the phone. "Hello?" she answered. "Oh, hi, Archie—what?—no. Oh no, that's not good. I can go get him—yes, I'm sure. No, don't worry about it."

"Who was that?" Regina asked nervously as she watched her wife get dressed.

"Minor crisis," Emma answered as she tugged her jeans on. "Pongo got out again."

Regina instinctively started getting dressed against Emma's wishes. "Sweetie, don't worry, I've got this."

"No," Regina cried. "You're not going."

"Baby, I have to," Emma said.

"Let Archie look!"

"He's taking care of Marco."

"They can both go," Regina suggested, "the cold air will be good for the old man."

"Honey, Marco has arthritis," Emma said with laughter. "The cold would be awful for him."

"Fine," Regina said, buttoning her black slacks, "I'll go with you."

"Regina, don't be ridiculous," Emma answered, throwing on her jacket. "No reason for the both of us get cold." She put her hand to Regina's bare chest. "You wait here, and I'll be back before you know it," she said seductively. "In the meantime, prepare for round three."

Regina shook her head and followed Emma to the door anxiously. She slipped on her overcoat and looked up to see Mr. Gold waiting patiently by the door.

"I'm coming, and that's final," she said sternly, looking into Mr. Gold's eyes when she spoke.

"Honey, what is the matter with you?" Emma asked.

"Let her go, Regina," Mr. Gold said, his words only heard by the brunette.

"I can't!"

"You can't, what?" Emma asked in confusion.

"Please, Sweetie," Regina pleaded, "just don't go."

"I have to go."

"She's right, dearie."

Regina threw her hands up. "This isn't fair!" she said to the man.

"What's not fair?" Emma said as she pulled on her beanie. She lifted her hands to Regina's neck. "You're being adorable, but I want you to stay here—all cozy and warm." Just as she kissed her, Mr. Gold tapped his cane.

"It's her time, Regina," he said.

"I'll be right back, Reg."

"No, let me come with you."

Mr. Gold's voice grew stern. "You cannot change this, Regina."

"I love you," Emma whispered into Regina's ears. But the brunette's eyes were focused on the man in the corner. She stood frozen, unable to move anymore. Emma opened the door and left her behind.

"No, Emma!" Regina screamed, a moment later. Her hands grabbed at the door. She tried desperately to open it, but the knob wouldn't budge.

"Open this door right now, you God damn imp!" she shouted at Mr. Gold.

"No, there's no point, dearie."

"Please," Regina said, rushing to his side. "Gold—I'll do anything. I can't let her die. I'll do anything."

"Anything?" he repeated.

And just like that, the door knob clicked. Before she could look back, Regina flew out the door. Everything made sense. She raced down the steps and out into the cold night air, knowing exactly what needed to be done.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! Thank you for your reviews and love for this adapted story! As promised, here is the conclusion. For those of you who have seen the film, I changed my ending a bit. I felt like the movie didn't show enough of a character change. Hopefully, you like what I've done.**

**Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays to my fellow SwanQueen panda bears! Love you all! And be on the lookout for more of 'This Remarkable Ride' and "Another Sleeping Curse II"...more will be up soon :)**

**Also...feel free to follow me on tumblr...I don't have much there, but I'll be revamping the blog after the holidays. URL is theregalswan**

* * *

The streets were cold and slippery, but Regina ran as fast as she could. It wasn't a matter of searching, but a matter of timing. She knew which streets Emma would walk down. She knew which stoop Pongo would sit on. And she knew which car's headlights would blind Emma that night. She'd seen it all before. Regina was determined that the last bit wouldn't happen again.

"Pongo!" Emma called out into the night air. Regina had yet to reach her and she'd remained blissfully unaware of her fate, still searching for the Dalmatian.

"Pongo? What are you doing there, crazy boy?" she said, approaching the dog. Just as she was about to pick him up, he leapt off the porch, barreling into the street.

"Pongo, come here!" she cried as she entered the street. "What are you doing out here? You're going to get hurt."

Just as the words came out of her mouth, the clacking of Regina's heels echoed in the alleyway, as she turned the corner. With Emma and the dog in sight, she knew she could stop it all.

"Emma!" she cried, causing her wife to look up with Pongo in her arms. Regina saw the headlights come on from behind her. Within an instant, she was darting out in the road, arms stretched out. Before her wife had time to respond, Emma found herself face planted into a pile of garbage bags on the sidewalk.

As Emma looked up, she only saw Pongo by her side. The sound of screeching tires sent a lump to her throat. She heard the loud thud—a sound that shook all panic within her to the surface. Turning around, Emma saw Regina lying motionless in the street.

* * *

Emma sat crumpled in a ball in the hospital waiting room. It wasn't until the doctor came out to get her that she moved out of the position.

"Mrs. Mills-Swan?" the man in scrubs asked.

Emma stood, rubbing her red eyes with the sleeve of her sweater.

"I'm Doctor Whale," he said as he extended a hand.

"How is she?"

Dr. Whale removed all expression from his face. "Let's talk in here," he said, leading Emma to a small room away from the noise of the emergency room.

"Mrs. Mills-Swan, your wife's injuries were very severe," he said as Emma put her hand to her mouth, preventing an outburst. "We've used all of the medical expertise available to us. I'm afraid there's nothing more we can do."

"No," Emma cried into her sleeve.

"She's not conscious," he added, "but if you'd like to see her—there's not much time."

"This isn't the way it's supposed to be," Emma cried, unaware of the truth she spoke.

* * *

Doctor Whale led her to the room where Regina lay, completely unconscious. Emma choked at the sight. Her wife's face was bruised and her body had become still, its color now close to the white of the pale sheet that clothed her. Emma held her hand and sat beside her.

"What were you thinking, huh?" Emma asked as she wept. "What were you thinking?—pushing me out of the way like that."

The heart monitor beeped steadily as she cried by her wife's side. Emma stroked her head, pushing a strand of dark hair off of her face. "It should have been me."

Just then, Emma jumped back, startled by the sudden sound of a flat line. "No!" she cried. "No, Regina! Please don't leave me!"

Doctor Whale rushed back in, put on his stethoscope, and gave a listen. His face went blank as he looked down at his watch to give a time of death. Emma covered her red, teary eyes in the sleeves of her sweater once again.

"I'm so sorry," the doctor said, before leaving her alone to say goodbye.

"No," Emma continued to cry, as she pulled Regina's limp hand to her face. She closed her eyes, kissing each finger, focusing only on the sensation of her wife's skin brushing against her lips. With her eyes closed, she was surprised again to hear the sound.

A beat.

The heart monitor picked up again, at a slow tempo. Emma's eyes flashed open to look at the screen. She saw the sharp peaks rise once more. Her own shallow breaths grew as well, completely shocked by the sight before her eyes. Regina was coming back to her.

"Honey," she called, stroking Regina's face, "Honey—Regina."

The brunette's eyelids fluttered for a moment before the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile.

"You're so beautiful," she said instantly to Emma, making the blonde laugh through her last tears.

Emma kissed her forehead several times. "I thought I lost you," she whispered.

Regina smirked. "I know the feeling."

As she embraced Emma's warm kisses, something in the corner of the room caught her attention. She glanced over to see none other than the imp—Mr. Gold—standing there with a genuine smile on his face. Regina smiled, the two of them having made eye contact.

"Merry Christmas, dearies."

* * *

**ONE YEAR LATER**

The merry jingling of Christmas bells and the bustle of the streets down below could be heard from the office. The brunette sat at her desk, carefully reading over the last pages before sending it out to the printing company. Upon hearing a knock at her door, she swiveled her chair and removed her glasses.

"Come in," Regina said.

Belle cleared her throat as she walked in with a large manila envelope and placed it on her desk. "These just came in from back from your co-illustrator," she said with a smile.

"Thank you, Belle," Regina said as she unfastened the folder. "I'm just re-reading the final copy before we send it out."

Belle watched her as she practically glowed. "Oh, hush!" she said. "Regina, that's the third time you've read it this morning!"

Regina blushed in embarrassment. "I'm aware, dear," she said, "but you know I've got a very tough critic—_two_ of them, actually."

Belle laughed. "I know, I hear the short one can be rough," she said, and then winked. "But I also hear that he's very receptive to the work if you read it using character voices."

"Most definitely."

Regina pulled out the illustrations from the packet. She beamed with joy when she found herself looking at the very familiar cover drawing. She ran her fingers over the outline of the small boy with the mischievous smile who sat beside the man with a cane. Her index finger moved up to the bubble letters of the title—"Henry and The Christmas Imp".

Belle stood up and leaned over the artwork. "I can't believe they let you keep that title," she said with a laugh. "More importantly, I can't believe Emma went for that title."

Regina leisurely swung her glasses from an arm of their frame. "Just because I've gone into writing children's books doesn't mean I've given up my attitude," she said. She smirked, thinking of her co-illustrator. "And my wife happens to—appreciate—that part of me as well."

Regina ran her fingers over the seal in the corner of the cover page. A golden swan sat gracefully in front of an old mill and the words 'Mills-Swan Publishing' were etched just below. Seeing the emblem of the company she and her wife had created just over six months prior still had the power to bring Regina to tears of joy.

She slowly scanned over the other pages, though she'd seen them before. Many times. She'd seen the sketches that Emma began, on their bed in the middle of the night when she just couldn't get to sleep. She'd watched Emma stick her tongue half-way out, as she concentrated on outlining them. She'd helped her add the watercolor, which, always lead to other fun moments. Regina had seen these images from start to finish.

"Speaking of my _co-illustrator_," Regina said as Belle chuckled at another image, "she and I have a very important meeting to get to."

As she gathered up her coat, and slid the drawings back in her case, Belle stood alert. "But don't you need to head home?! It's Christmas Eve, Regina!"

"I know it is," Regina said with a smile, "but I can't miss this meeting. After all, it's with the person who inspired the book."

Belle winked at her and gave her a hug before she headed out. "Enjoy!" she called after her as she walked out the door.

* * *

That afternoon, the brownstone apartment received its final touches for the holiday. The tree had been up, lights hung and ornaments placed. The gifts had been wrapped and were waiting to be nestled under the tree. Emma hummed to herself happily as she hung the stockings over the fireplace—one for Regina, one for herself, and a tiny one for Henry.

Just then, at the sound of the doorknob, her little boy cried from his play pen. Emma swooped down to scoop up Henry into her arms. "Sshhh, Henry," she cooed, "it's just Mama—she's home from work to see you!"

"Hi Loves!" Regina called from the hallway. "I'm home and ready to decorate and do the picture!"

Baby Henry gurgled as Emma soothed him. She wiped the bubbly spit from his mouth before it could drip down on his red outfit. "Let's show Mama what you look like, shall we?" she whispered.

Emma turned around just as Regina walked into the living room. The brunette gasped with laughter as she caught the sight. Her eyes drifted to the nook of her wife's arm, where her little boy, dressed as a little Santa, nuzzled his head against her arm. But when he saw his Mama, he smiled and giggled, reaching his arms out to Regina.

"Hey handsome," she said as she took him from Emma. "I see you're ready for the picture."

"It took me about fifteen minutes to get him in the suit," Emma said in response. "He just kept wriggling around."

"Aww, did you do that?" Regina cooed to her son. Emma just rolled her eyes. "Did you give Mommy a hard time, huh? You just missed me, didn't you, baby boy?"

Emma laughed as she set up the camera in front of the tree. Regina followed behind, carrying a happy, gurgling little boy. They sat down beside one another just as Emma set the timer. The blonde snuggled up close to her wife and baby.

"Merry Christmas, Regina," she whispered.

Regina's heart fluttered with warmth. A year ago, she'd sacrificed everything to save the love of her life. As she looked down at Henry and then over to Emma, she couldn't help but feel that she'd never been happier in her life. Mr. Gold may have been right—she needed to give Emma the gift of all gifts to prove her love. But this gift was one that they both shared, and changed them in a way Regina had never imagined.

Regina kissed Emma on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Emma."


End file.
